


It's not you and it's not me

by onlybubbly



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlybubbly/pseuds/onlybubbly
Summary: The crowd can’t believe it. Neither can she to be honest, and she orchestrated the whole thing. She looks over to him. He’s staring ahead, waving almost demurely at the shocked crowd, glowing as thousands of lights beam down, starry guitar matching the sparkles of his bespoke Gucci suit.Or Taylor invites Harry to perform as a special guest on the Reputation tour.





	It's not you and it's not me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I hope you like this! I know this situation is pretty much impossible but I couldn't stop thinking about it! All mistakes are mine and this is a piece of fiction- not intended to represent real life people. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

It starts with an off-hand comment from Niall. Of course, it started earlier than that- hazy pipe dreams discussed in the small hours of white hotel rooms, as a media storm raged outside. A different girl and a different boy making plans for a future they couldn’t envision. But it’s Niall that makes her consider it seriously, years on. 

‘Harry’s going to be so pissed,’ Niall says, slightly sweaty after an hour of practising in the London summer sun. The remark makes her look up in shock. Niall barks out a laugh at the sight of her face- eyes blown wide and mouth gaping. 

‘No-no…no,’ he bends over, hand clutching his chest, laughs wracking his body. ‘Not cause of that-‘ 

Taylor’s never heard her thing with Harry described so flippantly, but she supposes that’s the kind of person Niall is. 

‘No, no I mean he used to talk about performing with you all the time, he’s going to be so jealous I got to first,’ Niall explains, ‘serves him right for stealing Stevie.’

And that’s the end of the conversation. 

 

The London crowd is electric and goes wild when Niall saunters on stage. She soaks up the screaming of the crowd and smiles with fans backstage, still thrumming with adrenaline. It’s later when she’s lying alone in the hotel room, the cool light of her phone lighting up the room, when she thinks of what Niall said earlier. 

She has a sudden vision of them- Harry and Taylor- standing under bright lights, him dressed in one of his stupid suits, screams of the audience ringing as they sung together- like they had once talked of in a different era, as different people. 

She remembers the conversations lasting long into the night, Harry having her rolling on the floor in stitches as he attempted some of the Red choreography. Lying together on the couch, softly singing songs they grew up with. The sparkle in Harry’s eyes as he talked about performing. The whispers and promises of someday- when they could perform together, maybe even tour together. 

Not that it would mean anything like that- Joe’s the King of her heart and last she heard Harry was in a steady relationship. But the idea of performing together excites her- they’re so similar in that respect, feeding off the energy of the crowd, giving their all on stage to thousands of strangers. She supposes he’s more spontaneous in terms of stage antics but they both like the performance meticulously planned, all possibility of error removed. 

But- 

What would they even sing together- she knows too much about the subjects of his songs- firsthand or through the whispers of the LA gossip chain, and despite his love for the One Direction back catalogue, she can’t imagine singing any of the band’s music solely with him. 

And would he even agree? She doubts it, he seems to hate media speculation more than she does- something she didn’t think was possible. Also, the fact they don’t have the sort of relationship where she could comfortably ask something like that. Their (painfully) young, intense love had faded into a friendly acquaintanceship over the years. The last she had heard from him was a polite text- Good luck for your tour. X H. And the one before that saying he liked the album. 

But she can’t let go of the vision of them performing together. 

 

Days later a friend sends her the video of Harry duetting Still the One with Kacey, and the idea rears itself again in her mind. She imagines herself in Kacey’s place, sharing the stage and harmonising together, the crowd going nuts. They could do it, and more importantly she wants to do it, media frenzy be damned. 

 

She calls him in a moment of spontaneity, following weeks of sitting on the idea. It’s a couple of days after his tour wraps up. He’s in Italy of all places and answers with his signature drawl. 

‘Hey Taylor,’

‘Um hi, how are you?’ She cringes at her awkwardness, but she has no idea how to approach this conversation. 

‘Erm I’m well, just relaxing a bit with my mum. How’s tour going?’

‘That’s nice- tour’s really good, I always forget how much I love it until I go on stage again and it’s amazing having an entire stadium screaming your songs and the production this tour is incredible and- ‘ she cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, ‘actually that’s what I want to talk to you about…’

‘Mmhm’

She bites the inside of her cheek, she forgot how spacey he could be. 

‘Harry, I was wondering if you wanted to be a special guest on the tour.’

Hearing no audible response, she continues, ’I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I think it would be really cool-

‘Um what?’ he cuts her off, sounding shocked. ‘Why would you consider that? We wouldn’t hear about anything else for the next three years and I thought you didn’t want to drag up the past anymore.’

She winces, thinking of the message her manager sent to his, after his clumsy handling of their relationship in his early album promo. 

‘What would we even sing together?’ he continues. 

‘Two ghosts maybe,’ she doesn’t mean it seriously- just wants to shut him up before he makes her feel like more of an idiot for suggesting it in the first place.

He’s silent for a while, ‘I’ve thought about that before- us singing it together.’ 

‘What?’ Her turn to be shocked. 

‘Uh- ages ago, y’know when I wrote it ‘cause I was thinking of all the stuff we said to each other and..’ he trails off, always a little uncomfortable talking about these things, even though he initiated their friendship post-break up. 

‘I guess if we were to do it, may as well go out with a bang.’ He continues, laughing a little at the end. 

‘So you’ll do it?’ she pounces, ‘obviously you can do any date that works for you- you’ll probably have to talk to you team---'

‘I never said I would do it,’ he sighs. ‘Let me talk to my manager.’ 

Taylor hangs up with a smile. She knows she has him. 

 

He texts her, a couple days later, soon after a photo of him and Karlie, relaxed and beautiful, blew up her social media. 

My manager says it’s my career to ruin- so I’m in- send me the details x. H

She sends him an email outlining everything and he texts her back immediately confirming it all. They’re doing it. 

 

It’s a few days before the show with Harry, when she gets another text from him. 

I forgot to say thank you for organising this all. I’ve been dreaming of performing with you since I was 18 and I know your team probably hates it as much as mine does but I’m positive we will be brilliant. 

Followed by a string of smiley emojis. She smiles, her doubts easing about this whole event. Her team had been none to happy when she brought it up- PR already working up a storm trying to forecast the media fallout. Joe had smiled when she explained it all, and that’s what she loved about him- how well he got her and understood this whole madness. 

 

Harry flies in the morning of the show and meets her at the stadium, sleepy and slightly rumpled. He greets her with a hug- she forgot how affectionate he was- and precedes to introduce himself to the crew, charming the socks off all of them. 

It’s a little awkward to begin with, both a little unsure of how to precede. He messes up his guitar bit and she can’t help the giggles when she sings, ‘two ghosts swimming in a glass half- empty- suddenly envisioning the ridiculous image of the two of them draped in sheets in a giant glass of water. 

‘Heeey,’ Harry drawls, a slight smile on his face, ‘I was 19,’

She laughs and the tension breaks. 

Their voices blend nicely, they goof off between run-throughs, and she can feel a bit of that magnetism that drew them together in the first place, a desire to be the one to make him smile or bark out a laugh. 

Joe comes by at lunchtime, and she worries for a second that the awkwardness will return- the easy chemistry between Harry and her shattered- but it’s fine. Harry discusses their mutual friends, some British acting folk, and they gang up and tease her about her Americanisms. 

It’s not like their magically best friends all of a sudden- but there’s an understanding there and she guesses she’s always going to want to orbit his world a little bit. 

 

Feet aching slightly, as they always do in the closing moments of the show, Taylor looks up at the crowd- tens of thousands of people staring back at her, eager for next song. She wonders what they’ll think about it. Hopefully they won’t boo her off stage.

‘You guys have been incredible so far and I was wondering if a crowd this amazing would be interested in hearing a special guest!’ Taylor asks, heart palpitating as she fiddles with her guitar strap, the sequins of her costume sticking to her sweaty skin. She had a speech prepared but she thinks ripping it off like a band-aid is the best approach. ‘Would you guys be excited if I told you my friend Harry Styles is here to play for you!’

The drums of the song kick in – ba da ba da da da- and Harry walks on stage. 

The crowd can’t believe it. Neither can she to be honest, and she orchestrated the whole thing. She looks over to him. He’s staring ahead, waving almost demurely at the shocked crowd, glowing as thousands of lights beam down, starry guitar matching the sparkles of his bespoke Gucci suit. He turns and glances back at her, as if to say are we going to get this over with or what. She gives a slight nod, turning to face the crowd, their screams still resounding over the intro of the music. She hears him suck in a deep breath, the sound reverberating through the stadium’s speakers, before he begins to sing…

Same lips red, same eyes blue  
Same white shirt, couple more tattoos  
But it's not you and it's not me

At that he looks up to her and smiles deeply, dimples and all, and she can see the eager, eighteen-year-old boy she was once in love with, who danced in her living room, singing her songs. It feels fitting they’re singing this one together. She realises then, on stage with thousands of eyes upon her, that she never told him how much she liked the song- how it perfectly describes their relationship over the years, albeit through the rose-coloured glasses of nostalgia.  
We’re not who we used to be 

And that’s okay. 

 

She doesn’t remember the last song of the night- and she doesn’t think the crowd will either- the grand performance and production of this is why we can’t have nice things overshadowed by a simple duet. Harry greets her backstage, smiley in his sparkly suit, arms open for a hug. She jumps into his arms immediately and he laughs, spinning her round—and she’s 22 again attempting the lift from Dirty Dancing. She thinks then, sweaty from performing and twirling through the air, if only their past selves could see them now; performing together- chemistry undeniable- but with none of their typical drama. Just Taylor and Harry. Singing. 

Joe walks in on them, smiling at his phone. 

‘The performance is already everywhere,’ he grins, waving the phone around.

Harry shrugs, ‘that’s not why we did it.’

He looks at her, his green eyes staring her down and she smiles back at him, eyes crinkling, before leaning in to embrace Joe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
